The Shortcut
by LoveofVelma
Summary: Fred Jones is about to take a shortcut. A shortcut that will take the gang into the Twilight Zone not a crossover, I couldn't resist . A shortcut that will change his view of Daphne forever. Some S/V hints just for those S/V lovers.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Scooby Doo and all related characters are the property of Hanna-Barbera, Warner Bros., and /or Cartoon Network. Names, characters, locations, and events are fabricated from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.

A/N: One day my wife and I were returning home from a weekend at the coast. We decided to take a shortcut, one we had never taken before. Some shortcut; it added an hour to our trip. It was also one of the most enjoyable trips we ever took and became our regular route home.

Every plot bunny has it's day if it squeals loud and long enough. This is its day.

The Shortcut

Chapter One: The Road Home

Eighteen year old Fred Jones is about to have the experience of a lifetime. He would never be able to fully understand what was about to happen; live with it, yes, but to understand it? No, not completely.

Fred and the gang, eighteen year old Norville "Shaggy" Rogers, seventeen year old Daphne Blake, and sixteen year old Velma Dinkley had been to a concert in a near by town. The girls had talked their folks into extending their curfew due to the extra driving time; but Fred didn't want to incur the wrath of two sets of parents if they got home late, especially Daphne's parents.

That was the reason why he took the shortcut; a shortcut like no other, past or future. This is the story of that shortcut.

-------------Xxxxxx

After the concert, they had eaten, talking excitedly about the concert mostly, but other topics as well. Like what Fred and Shaggy had planned after graduation among others. And then they had started home, Fred driving as usual. He checked the rear view mirror; Shaggy and Scooby had crashed on the floor, leaving the rear seat for Velma. The seat pulled out to make a small bed, but either they were to tired to bother, or more likely, they didn't want to explain sleeping in the same bed. Fred smiled, probably a little of both, although he didn't think either would complain about snuggling in the same bed...too much at least.

Fred had been driving a long time and he could feel his back muscles tightening into knots, threatening to spasm from sitting in one position too long. He recognize the warning signs; maybe it was time to get a new van. One with those new captain chairs.

His thoughts turned to Daphne, glancing at the girl in the front seat with him. Daphne Blake; vivacious, definitely curvaceous, and beautiful even in sleep. She had taken his letterman's jacket, and using it as a pillow, had fallen asleep against the passenger side window. This wasn't the first time he had seen her like this but maybe the first time he looked at her as possibly a girlfriend, not just a friend.

He wasn't blind, Daphne always claimed the front seat, leaving the rest to arrange their own seating arrangements. He had noticed the lingering eye contact, the touch of her caressing fingertips that sent his heart racing.

Daphne was the one girl. 'No, woman, she has grown into a beautiful young woman in front of my eyes' he thought. She was the first woman, he corrected himself, that he was completely at ease with, except maybe when it came to that "C" word. He shivered at the thought, even with the van's heater blowing warm air full blast.

He felt the warning signs, stronger now, just under the surface, ready to pounce. He'd have to stop soon or pay the consequences. He saw the turn out ahead and slowed the van, coasting to a smooth stop.

"What's wrong Freddy?" Daphne whispered, not wanting to disturb the sleeping trio in back.

"Nothing, just need to stretch; go on back to sleep," he whispered in answer. Then she did the unusual.

She reached out her hand, taking his, she squeezed gently, "Don't be long...okay?" she added. 'Daphne always does the unexpected' he thought.

It wasn't cold when he stepped out of the van but he left the engine running for the heater. He raised his arms over his head, stretching one way then the other. He could feel the threat of a spasm decreasing already. He repeated the movements several more times, adding several deep knee bends.

He became aware of noises in the dark; the breeze and the call of night birds in the near by trees. There was another sound. A sound of running water, like a river near by but he couldn't remember crossing a bridge, or seeing any stream for that matter. His curiosity and detective instincts demanded he investigate this mystery.

He checked to see that every one was asleep, killed the engine to save fuel, locked the van and walked into the trees.


	2. Chapter 2

The Shortcut

Chapter Two: The Vision

Fred hadn't walked far when the trees came to an abrupt end. He could hear the birds, feel the breeze on his cheek and the calming sounds of a gurgling stream. Something new had been added; he was sure he heard a girl's voice raised in song although he couldn't place the tune.

He crept as quietly as possible to the last remaining tree, peeking out to see the stream which curved close to the trees, meandering through a small meadow filled with flowers. The scents of the night blooms permeated the air with their sweet smells. Before him, sitting on a rock in the middle of the stream sat the most ravishing creature he had ever laid eyes on. It was she who sang.

In the moonlight her skin appeared flawless with a golden sheen. Her tresses flowed from head to mid-back while framing her face in red, the color of the sky painted by a setting sun. His first thought was this vision of beauty was Daphne, but how could that be? He hadn't rushed to this spot but she hadn't had time to beat him here, shed her clothes, and now repose on the rock before him. He stood transfixed, listening to her voice that called to him so softly, urging him to join her.

Her song ended, leaving him with a desire to hear more. She stood, preparing to enter the water. Fred had first thought she was nude; this proved to be untrue, for around her waist she wore a garland and what could only be described as a skirt. A skirt of flowers and leaves that extended to mid thigh.

She dove gracefully into the stream; dipping her head she disappeared under the surface, only to reemerge. Rising, water flowing down and off her body as she continued to rise until she was standing above the stream. For several seconds she held the pose before she sank down into the clear blue water.

She rolled from front to back to front several times before she dipped her red tresses under the water once again.

Fred became alarmed, she had been underwater for quite some time, or it felt that way. Perhaps he stepped on a dry leaf, or a dry twig when he left his hiding place. Whatever it had been, the young maiden came alert, aware she wasn't alone in her water wonderland. She turned around slowly in the water, searching for the intruder.

He was unsure what to do when her eyes came to rest on him. Should he run, stay, or since he had been spotted, step forward. The maiden solved that for him as she motioned with her hand to stay where he was and then began to swim effortlessly toward him until she reached the shallow water. She came out of the water, advancing until she stood less than a foot in front of him.

"Why do you come here?" she asked, "have you come for my gold?"

Fred knew instinctively he was being tested; his answer would determine his fate. He would leave here, or her voice would lure him to a darker fate.

"The sound of your stream led me here," he answered truthfully, "to take your gold would make me a thief---I am no thief, your gold is safe."

The swell of her full breasts was hidden behind the veil of shinning red hair; she took his hand and placed it between her breasts. Her skin was pleasingly warm yet electrifying; he tried to pull his hand away but she held it in place.

"Do you wish to take me?" Her voice was full of promises, of desires he hadn't dreamed of. It took all his failing will to answer.

"I was tired when I stopped and heard the calming sounds of your stream. I wish only to leave here refreshed with the memories of your beauty and the regeneration sounds of your stream. You are safe."

"Then go, take your memories. Don't look back. Follow your heart and you will find true happiness."

She dropped his hand, turned and entered the water until it touched her thighs, then dove, becoming one with the water.

The spell broken, Fred ran. Shaggy may have been the track star but on this night Fred would have beaten him easily. He didn't look back, there was no need to, he knew she wouldn't be there. He ran until he caught a glimpse of the van, only then did he stop, bending over to rest hands on knees trying to catch his breath. When he felt better he walked slowly to the van.

Settled behind the wheel, Fred checked the status of his friends. Shaggy had unrolled one of the sleeping bags they kept stored in the van for such situations, using it as a blanket and Scooby as a soft furry pillow. Velma had another bag spread over her. Fred hoped it had been Shaggy that had done that for her.

Daphne had switched his jacket from pillow to cover her shoulders. The night had turned cold without the heater; Fred started the van to let it warm up before adjusting the heater. What had the 'Lady of the River' as Fred now thought of her, what had she said? 'Follow your heart...", yes, that was it. And so he did, leaning over to rearrange a lock of Daphne's hair before kissing her cheek.

Fred had reached to adjust the heater when he looked at his hand.

He didn't want to but he had to; he reached over to caress Daphne's hair---it was damp!

--------Xxxxxx

A/N: Don't flame me! I know Fred is way ooc here but the alternative is death for our hero and none of us wants that at this point in the story. In the next chapter, Velma offers one option about what Fred has just experienced. Stay tuned for 'A Talk With Velma' coming soon.


	3. Chapter 3

The Shortcut

Chapter Three: A Talk With Velma

The following evening...

Fred wondered just how much of what had happened last night he'd tell Velma as he dropped the required number of coins into the juke box. And how much she would believe? He wasn't sure how much he believed himself. He pushed the buttons for two of his and two of Velma's favorite songs.

The gang didn't have their names engraved on the booth but they might as well have. They had used the same booth since they had started coming to the malt shoppe. A plastic cover had been added for Scooby's benefit, but other than that, it had remained unchanged. Fred couldn't say that about the gang, not after last night.

"You're looking good, Velms." He slid into his usual place opposite Velma.

"Thanks, but you never could lie that well. I wonder where Shaggy and Daphne are? They're usually not this late." They had ordered drinks earlier, now Velma sipped at hers nervously. She usually wasn't here with Fred. Alone.

"I umm asked if they wouldn't mind coming a little later...I wanted to talk to you...alone."

"Oh, what about, Fred? About what happened last night?" Velma raised her eyebrows.

"I never could get any thing past you...yeah, about last night. How did you know?"

"Little clues speak with loud voice," Velma said in a bad Indian accent then dropped the accent to continue, "dark bags under bloodshot eyes, hair not combed when you usually don't have a hair out of place, but mostly you're bouncing off the walls like you've been drinking, I hope that isn't the case. All those clues tells me you didn't sleep much last night, if at all. You and Daphne didn't..."

"And Shaggy walked you to your door last night," he countered, not harshly but with a tone that she was bumping up against a line not to be crossed.

"Point taken. Sorry." A crimson blush and lowered eyes told him what probably happened and maybe he was bumping up against another line.

"It's okay Velms, I'm sorry too. Put it down as being too tired. No, nothing happened between Daphne and I like you're thinking. I only wish it was that simple."

"I'm no psychologist but if you want to talk, I'll listen." Velma offered.

He had intended to give her a shortened version but when he started he found he wanted to tell her the whole story. Velma was a good listener, letting him tell the story in his own way and in his own time; interrupting only to ask him to repeat something for clarification.

"I touched her hair and it was damp." he finished, falling back in his seat as if the telling made him exhausted. Velma leaned back, crossing her arms, deep in thought. She remained in this position for some time.

"Well, when you have a vision, you have a whopper don't you?" she finally said, unfolding her arms, "Lets start by eliminating the obvious. You haven't been drinking and it wasn't your imagination."

"So where does that leave us?" an impatient Fred asked, "that it was really Daphne I saw at that river?"

"No, it wasn't Daphne you saw. You said you touched this woman. You would know if it was really Daphne or not, you wouldn't even have to raise the question." Velma looked at Fred, this old friend who had aged in one night. What she was about to propose would rock his world; she only hoped he could handle the one option left.

"You and Shaggy had the section on Greek mythology last year. Daphne just finished that section in school. You should remember that Daphne was a water nymph, the daughter of Lodon, the first love of Apollon. I guess we could start calling you Apollo, you do look like a Greek god...after a hard day."

"Okay, you can quit laughing now, This isn't funny!" But Fred was laughing along with Velma.

"Okay Fred." Velma finally got her giggles under control...sort of. "I think we can eliminate that Daphne, she didn't have red hair that I remember." Now, the laughter, the giggles were gone. Now was the moment of truth. Velma wondered if he could pass the test before him? She wasn't sure he could. She reached over, taking his hand and looked into those blue bloodshot eyes.

"Fred, how much do you love Daphne?"

"I think every one knows how I feel about her," Fred wondered where this was going.

"That's the point Fred. Every one knows...except Daphne herself!" She removed her hand, "I think I see what happened last night. It's the only thing that makes sense. Fred, there are certain people who, under stress or a strong enough motivation, can create an OOB experience. They can go out of body."

"Will you talk sense, this is driving me crazy." Fred interrupted.

"I think Daphne used the mythological Daphne as a starting point and created her own version. She either wanted to tell you something, make you realize something or maybe both. First think about the questions she asked."

"Was I there to take her gold and was I there to take her." Fred intoned.

"Now, think of Daphne. Her folks may not be rich, but they are well off and by extension so is she. She needs to know that you love her and not just after her parents wealth. That is very important to Daphne.

"Think about how she was dressed. She made herself as desirable, as sexy as possible and still stay within her personal moral bounds. Any man would desire her and have a difficult time saying 'no' to her, _but you did! _She's my dearest friend and I want her to be happy, I don't want to see her hurt.

"I asked before, I ask again, how much do you love Daphne? I think that is behind this whole vision. Daphne is tired of waiting, she wants, no, needs you to tell her how you feel. She was telling you she's ready but she needs to know if you love her enough to make a commitment. That guy thing called the big"C" word."

"What about her hair being damp?" Fred asked.

"Fred, you should know by now, some questions defy even women's logic.

"They'll probably be here in a few minutes, I'm surprised they're not here already. I'll get Shaggy to dance with me; that will give you two some time to talk. It will cost you! If my feet survive you owe me one foot massage!"

"Here they are," Fred nodded at the door as Velma finished speaking. Velma slid out of the booth.

"Come on Shaggy, I've been sitting all this time, dance with me."

"What..." a bewildered Shaggy quipped, "I just got here. I haven't even ordered yet!"

"Don't worry, they know what to order, one of every thing, right?" Velma tugged on his arm.

"That'll do for starters." But he took her hand, letting her lead him to the small dance floor.

Fred had risen, letting Daphne slip into the booth, then reclaiming his seat beside her.

"Hi Freddy, what was that all about? Did you get to speak to Velma?"

"Yes, maybe they wanted some time by themselves," Daphne looked at him dubiously, "If you're not hungry, we've got time to catch the next showing at the Coolsville theater."

"Just us? Like a real date? What about those two?" Daphne pointed at the dancing couple, Velma trying vainly to stay out of the way of Shaggy's feet. "They look adorable together."

"I've got a plan. Maybe they just need a nudge in the right direction. Let's give them that nudge. We can use your car, I'll leave the van keys with Shaggy. He can take Velma home."

"I'd like that," Daphne took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his, "but one thing, Freddy. No shortcuts tonight. Tonight let's take the long way home."

His lips barely brushed hers, "promise, no shortcuts." He got up and walked over to Shaggy, holding out the keys. "Take care of the van tonight, I won't need it."

Velma stopped dancing long enough to give her friend a hug, "You owe me!" she whispered.

"I noticed, I owe you big time. Thanks Velms."

Fred walked away toward Daphne who waited by the door; taking her hand they walked out of the malt shoppe into the evening.

"Shaggy," Velma said as she slid back into his arms, "can you see me as a water nymph?"

"What are you talking about?" Shaggy wondered where that had come from. 'Women!' he thought.

"Never mind, it was a silly idea."

'I'm more the dryad type anyway' Velma thought. She snuggled closer into his arms.

The End

A/N: A dryad is a wood nymph. Begs the question if Shaggy is in store for his own vision doesn't it?


End file.
